#like shit it was supposed to be 'you'd become whatever she needs me to be' so just have one of them date a girl like normalä
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It Happened One Night: Tequila and Bourbon
(Part 1) (Part 2)
The alarm on your phone went off, shaking you out of a deep sleep. So, you flung it across the room.
Your head began pounding, and breathing seemed too loud. Groaning, you tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but the churning nausea rolling through your gut would not be ignored. Flinging the covers aside you staggered to your feet.
Funny, your slippers weren't where you'd left them. Before you could ponder that quandary further, your stomach roiled again, sending you running, or more likely dragging your half dead carcass to the bathroom.
Lifting the toilet lid, you dropped to the ground and wretched into the bowl. And then again. Resting your cheek on the rim of the toilet bowl, you closed your eyes and hugged the porcelain like a lifeline.
"I feel like an extra in the Walking Dead." You moaned to no one in particular. At that moment you didn't care if it wasn't 'socially acceptable to talk to yourself'. You felt like shit, and if you wanted to complain to yourself, by George, you jolly well would.
Again, your stomach churned, and you again wretched over the bowl. Your body was shaking at this point, and a few tears slid down your cheeks from the exertion.
Unbeknownst to you, you hadn't been the only party in bed, and said party was just stirring awake. And suffice it to say, he didn't look much better than you.
Miguel rolled over, sprawling across the bed and raised his head when his fingers felt the warm spot that had clearly been occupied recently. With some effort, he pulled himself up and cradled his head in his hands.
Usually, he could handle his alcohol, but not this morning. While his stomach wasn't roiling like yours, he did have a splitting headache, and the overwhelming need to take a piss. Peeling back the covers slowly, Miguel rolled out of the bed and stretched, moaning in relief when his back made an audible cracking sound.
"Getting old, O'Hara." He muttered to himself, running a hand raggedly through his hair. Pulling on his t-shirt, Miguel shuffled to the bathroom, stretching out his arms and yawning loudly. He felt as shitty as you but considering that the last six months of his life had been one long shit fest, this had become the norm.
They hadn't called it retirement, when Jess and Peter had suggested he take a break. No, of course not. Just... a break. It was of little consequence to him, in his mind Miguel had been put out to pasture like so much cattle, and he resented it. So how did he express that resentment?
By scarfing down cold empanadas and watching whatever terrible Tela Novela was on television. Sometimes to mix things up, Lyla appeared sporadically with cheery little reminders that he had a back log of messages from Jess. Messages he was ignoring on purpose.
Yawning yet again, Miguel stepped into the bathroom and dropped his boxers... only to be met with a piercing scream... which he returned with a startled cry of his own.
The mating call of the idiots.
"You!" Both voices shouted in surprise.
The events of the previous night...
"You need to take a break man."
"What I'm hearing is that you're ousting me." Miguel had shot back.
"What? No!" Peter had tried to pat his shoulder, but Miguel was having none of it. Folding his arms, he glared at Peter and Jess.
"After everything I've done, I pulled this society together with my bare hands, not to mention I've kept the universes safe,"
"We've kept the spider verse safe. Miguel." Jess said pointedly, mirroring his stance, refusing to back down. "We took down Spot as a team, Miguel. We saved countless lives as a team. And you seem to have forgotten that."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Miguel reeled back at her insinuations. Jess looked almost regretful as she glanced at Peter and back at him gravely.
It means you're not God, Miguel, and you need a break."
"You okay, man?" The bartender's words cut through his bitter recollections.
"Why shouldn't I be, okay? I'm a free man." He bit out the last words and held the drink up to the light. "You try to be a good man, take care of everybody and what does it get you?" Narrowing his eyes, he downed the bourbon and placed the glass on the counter with a 'thud'. "Cucked. Apparently, it gets you cucked." The bar tender shook his head and left Miguel to his misery.
If only you'd done the same. But like they say, misery loves company.
"Mind if I sit here?" Without waiting for an answer, you plopped onto the stool next to Miguel, and took a sip of your tequila.
"It's a free country." He muttered without looking at you. Shrugging you turned to flag down the bar tender.
"Tequila, please, a whole bottle." He raised a brow at your still half full glass, and you gave him a tight smile. "Go big or go home, right?" The bar tender slowly returned your grin and reached behind the counter for a bottle.
"Here you go."
"Thank you, my good sir." Sliding a wad of bills, you'd won in a slot machine across the counter, you topped off your glass and glanced again at Miguel. "I see we seem to have the same mission tonight."
"What?" He finally glanced at you, albeit through eyes that were growing glassy. You jutted your chin towards his half empty bottle of bourbon.
"Getting swacked. Seems to be the theme of the night." Miguel shrugged and turned his attention back to his drink. "I've never actually gotten properly drunk before, figure," Shrugging, you take a drink straight from the bottle. "What the hay, break up with a shitty guy, might as well get wasted." You bit out the last words and took another swig.
"Are you always this chatty when you drink?" He grumbled, turning again to glance at you and his eyes narrowed. "The shitty guy, he did that?" Miguel's voice took on a dangerous edge as he gestured to a deep purple bruise near your left eye. Humming, you shrugged nonchalantly and squinted to read the label on the bottle.
"That's nothing, you should've seen the going away present I gave him."
"What'd you do?" Miguel turned to face you, leaning against the bar, interest piqued. You chuckled darkly and took another swig.
"Cuffed him in the jaw with a shovel." A twisted grin ghosted over your face before it fell, and you took another drink. "Hope he's not dead. The shit's not worth my time in prison." You grumbled. Alcohol made your tongue loose and lowered your inhibition, which was why you rarely drank. Miguel snorted and took another drink of his bourbon. Refilling the glass, he looked at you again, a healthy dose of respect in his eyes.
Your eyes flit to the shot glass of tequila you'd abandoned. "Haste makes waste, or whatever it is they say." You muttered, downing the shot. By that point, you felt that warm hazy sensation overtaking your body, and whatever decision-making skills you possessed where swiftly being ignored in favor of instinct.
Taking note of the jukebox in the corner, your ears perked up as you recognized the song. Seven Spanish Angels. It'd been a favorite of your fathers. Miguel noticed the tears pricking at your eyes, and he raised a brow.
"You, okay?" Wiping your nose with the back of your forearm, you shook your head and sniffed.
"No. But who is, right?" He couldn't argue with that. "That is..." Squeezing your eyes shut, you swallowed hard. "Was my dad's favorite song." Miguel's eyes softened, and he topped off your shot glass with some of his bourbon. "Thanks." You smiled weakly at him.
"Don't mention it." He said gruffly, refilling his own glass, emptying the bottle. You downed the shot and put the glass on the counter none too gently. "I'm not one to preach to the choir, but you might want to pace yourself."
"I might not be Paul Bunyon, mister, but I can hold my liquor."
"Paul Bunyon?" His lips quirked. "Am I supposed to know who that is?" You brushed off his snide tone and sighed heavily, gesticulating dramatically with your hand.
"A giant lumber jack with a giant blue ox."
"And I remind you of this, giant lumber jack?" Miguel said bemusedly, with a raised brow.
"I'll bet you'd swing an ax, real pretty, mister." Giving him a sly once over, you leaned an elbow on the counter and propped your chin in your hand. Miguel felt a distinctive heat prickle across his neck, and he coughed.
That should've been the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. But with the subtle twang surfacing in your voice, and the almost hungry way you were staring at him, Miguel struggled to find it anything other than positively erotic.
"In case you were wondering," His breath stalled when you scooted closer and looked into his eyes with an exaggerated sense of gravitas. "I am objectifying you to a disgusting degree." A tingle slithered down his spine and curled around his tail bone, and he released a shuddering breath.
Present Morning...
Getting your bearings, you dragged yourself to your feet and sat on the edge of the bathtub, head in your hands.
"I have so many questions..." Glancing up you saw Miguel pacing, boxers still around his ankles. So, he wasn't so much pacing as he was waddling. There was so much to take in all at once, but you shook your head and shielded your eyes. Now isn't the time to be getting horny you idiot. You grumbled to yourself. "Please put that thing away."
"Thing?" Miguel paused midstride and glanced down. Looking up, he noticed your attempts to block your vision and smirked. "You don't like what you see?" He said, propping his hands on his hips cockily, seemingly forgetting the circumstances at hand.
"That's hardly the point right now!" You sputtered and groaned when a splitting pain shot through your skull. Miguel rolled his eyes and pulled up his boxers.
"I'm not naked anymore." Tentatively you peeked between your fingers and dropped your hand, looking up at him.
"You look like shit." The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. Miguel smirked.
"You're not exactly sleeping beauty yourself." You felt your face flush, but you couldn't argue. It didn't take a mirror for you to know how you must look. Your stomach roiled again, and you flung yourself over the toilet bowl and wretched.
Miguel held back your hair. You shuddered violently and pulled back, wiping away tears and filmy residue. Miguel's eyes softened at your vulnerable state, and he helped you gently to your feet.
"Thanks." You rasped. Miguel's brows furrowed, and he seemed to be studying you. Tilting your head back, your expression mirrored his own. "What, hey!" You squeaked in surprise when he hoisted you up by the waist and sat you on the counter by the sink. Without a second glance at you, he turned on the water and rifled through the drawers for a wash cloth. "What are you doing?" You watched him, curiosity piqued.
"Your face is disgusting." He said simply, lathering up the wash cloth he'd found.
"Gee, thanks a lump." You muttered, folding your arms.
"You know what I mean." He sighed and squeezed the excess water out of the soapy cloth. You reached to take the cloth, but he pulled it back and narrowed his eyes at you. "What do you think you're doing?" You blinked at him, confusedly.
"Wash my face?"
"I'll do it."
"I'm perfectly capable of washing my own,"
"I said, I'll do it." He cut off your protest firmly, tilting your face up. You opened your mouth to protest, but at his glower, you closed your mouth. Satisfied, Miguel gently washed your face with the cloth. Up close, you had a chance to admire anew just how good looking he was. No, good looking was an understatement.
This man was the stuff of Michaelangelo's wet dreams. Oh, to be a sculptor. You thought, wryly, tracking the subtle twitch of his eyebrow and the way the muscles ticked in his jaw as he focused. His eyes locked on yours, and you glanced away, flushing.
"You weren't this shy last night." Miguels lips twitched, but his tone remained neutral. And for some reason, that made it all the hotter. Your eyes flit to his momentarily, and at the shit eating grin that spread across his face, you huffed.
"Asshole." You grumbled, folding your arms. Miguel simply grunted, good naturedly and rinsed the rag before wiping the soap off your face. "I don't remember very much about last night." You admitted when he finally pulled back, giving you breathing room again.
"And I seem to remember even less." He said, tossing the cloth in the hamper.
"I guess we both got pretty swacked last night." You groaned, rubbing your temples thoughtfully. "I don't even think I caught your name." You breathed, looking up at him slowly, shame flushing your face. Miguel folded his arms and leaned against the bathroom wall.
"Miguel O'Hara." Were you not actively fighting to tamp down a rising waive of panic, the subtle accent that rolled off his tongue with the words would've had goose bumps prickling your skin. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed heavily.
"All things considered, you're taking this really well, Miguel O'Hara." You glanced up to catch his shrugging his shoulders.
"As you so eloquently put it, we got 'swacked', is it? And it seems evident to me that we hooked up." You were taken aback by his cool demeanor.
"Oh, is that so evident to you, Mister Smarty Pants?" Narrowing your eyes, you jumped off the counter, and immediately stumbled. Miguel reached out and caught you before you fell.
"Mujercita espinosa." He grumbled, wrapping an arm supportively around your waist.
"I don't think I want to know what you just called me." You groused as he slowly led you back into the bedroom and gingerly helped you perch on the edge of the bed. Fighting through another wave of nausea, you placed your head between your knees and groaned. "Just let me die." You moaned loudly.
"You might really want to when I tell you where we are..." Miguel sounded genuinely concerned.
"Oh, yeah, why's that?" Opening your eyes, you turned your head and saw Miguel standing tensely by the window. Feeling the blood pounding in your head, you slowly sat up. "Might as well tell me what other piss poor decision we made last night, where are we?" Miguel glanced at you warily. "Miguel... where are we?" Narrowing your eyes, your tone grew firmer.
He sighed and pulled the curtain further aside, looking again out the window. In the next tense moment of silence, your eyes fell on a sheet of paper sticking out from under the lamp on the nightstand and reached for it curiously.
As you read the paper, your heart dropped. You didn't need him to tell you where you were. A marriage license. With the proud country of Mexico stamped at the top.
"I think I'm going to be sick..." You struggled to breath, and dropping the paper to the bed, you curled in on yourself and began hyperventilating. Crossing the room, he started to reach for you, but froze when his eyes landed on the paper.
"Mierda." He muttered under his breath, as he scanned the writing. He recognized his handwriting, and the accompanying signature he attributed to you. At least he had a name to go with your face now.
And a wife to go along with it, cabrón." He thought bitterly, dropping the paper on the nightstand. Tempted to give in to his familiar spiral of self-loathing, but paused when he looked down at you. You'd curled up like an armadillo and were shaking like a leaf.
His heart crumpled at the sight. He couldn't be selfish, you clearly needed him to be the stable one right now. Running a hand through his hair, he took a ragged breath and sat heavily next to you.
"Hey." He rested a hand in the center of your back, causing you to tense. After several minutes of his soothing strokes up and down your back, you started to uncurl yourself. "You, okay?" He whispered gently when you finally sat up and crossed your legs. Breathing out a shaky laugh, you ran shaky fingers through your hair, and glanced at him with slightly wild eyes.
"Not even a little bit." You said, shakily. Miguel could only nod, his own mind trying to wrap around the overload of information. Moaning, you flopped back on the bed again. "I'd always assumed I'd get married, but this is ridiculous!" Not that he didn't agree with you, but for some reason, his ego still stung at your caustic tone.
"It's certainly not ideal." He said tentatively. You shot up and looked at him, eyes panicky.
"Not ideal. Not ideal. He says!" Sensing you were going into another spiral, Miguel took your face in his hands, gently but firmly and turned your head.
"Hey, look at me." The authority in his voice caught your attention, and you narrowed in on him, breath still rapid and shallow. Miguel leaned closer and looked intently into your eyes, his voice never wavering. "This is going to be okay."
You began sputtering, but he simply shifted a hand so he could place his thumb gently over your lips. Your eyes widened at the motion, and you glanced from his thumb back to his eyes. Had they been that startling russet hue last night? You couldn't remember.
Just like you can't remember anything else, you dodo. You thought bitterly. You felt the rough pad of his thumb grazing softly over your bottom lip. The combinations of that sensation and his deep voice whispering your name, brought your thoughts to a screeching halt, and you couldn't do anything but stare at him.
"Are you with me?" He said a bit louder, and said your name again, more pointedly. You nodded as best as you could with his hands keeping you so firmly in place. Taking a deep breath, he let his hands slacken a bit and you took a bracing breath.
He looked back into your eyes. "This is a shitty situation, and I've got a splitting headache, but it's going to be okay, I promise." Your heart stuttered at his firm tone, and searching his eyes, you found that you believed him.
"I believe you." You choked out. His eyes widened, and you saw his pupils dilate and retract before he released your face and leaned back. Releasing a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding in, you studied this perfect stranger, this... husband, more intently.
Something about him made you want to believe him. Made you want to believe that if there was a monster in the closet, he'd vanquish it. Made you want to believe that he'd slay a dragon if it meant keeping you safe.
Wishful thinking. You shook your head, clearing out the fanciful thoughts. He was just a man, like any other man. And men failed. You were certain, Miguel O'Hara wouldn't prove to be the exception. But, for some reason, on this one thing... you had no qualms about putting trust in him. When he said this would be okay, you knew it would.
"What are we going to do?" You gave voice to the nagging question, flopping back on the bed. You bounced a little when Miguel's heavy back hit the mattress. After several minutes of silence, you turned your head and saw him staring intently at the ceiling.
"Miguel?" He hummed. "What are we going to do?" A muscle ticked in his jaw, and slowly, he turned his head to meet your eyes.
"My lawyer is in Nueva York. We'll fly back, and he'll look over the license. He can tell us if it's legally binding or not."
"And if it is?" You pressed, raising a brow. Miguel breathed out through his nose, and he shrugged.
"Then, we'll cross that bridge when we reach it."
@feyhunter78 (figured out how to tag!!!)
By the by, I AM open to suggestions about where we can take these two idiots in the future! Kinda wanna try to actually have some follow through and develop a full fledged plot for once!
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im dYIIIINGGGG with the adam warlock x quill sister! when he calls her 'little quill'??? with that accent of his??? so soft and husky??? im screaming at my phone dude aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i need part iii right freaking now!!!
PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader
POWERS: adapted from D.C.'s Stargirl, although in this instance, the powers are a part of you and the staff just helps you use them.
WC: 1.9k (woo a shorter one this time!)
SUMMARY: your first meeting with Adam wasn't one that indicated that you'd become friends anytime soon. Your second meeting. . . wasn't great either. But, somewhere along the line, you would develop a soft spot for the curious man-child.
WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, badly written original fight scene, possibly ooc canon!guardians.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: OMG!!! This is my first-ever inbox message- thank you, anon! You made my day with this <3 I love Adam's/Will's accent; I definitely hope that we get to see (and hear) more of him in other Marvel movies. As requested, here's part three (even if it's technically part zero, lol.) I do take requests if anyone wants to send me stuff! (I just won't write smut, sorry!)
I hope you guys enjoy this part, although I'm not very confident about it since I'm terrible at writing fight scenes. It's hard enough for me to imagine original content (like the other two parts) but scenes where people move around a lot without the movie itself to rely on are very difficult for me because my mind doesn't think in pictures, but in words and I don't know how to describe fighting. I'm sorry if this isn't as good as the other parts. 😭
And on a side note, the 'no shit, Captain Sherlock' is another reference to space people messing up Terran lingo :)
Part 1 , Part 2
You were admittedly not in the best mood when you first (officially) met Adam. Peter and Mantis had left only days ago, leaving you to sort out your feelings alone. You were currently in the training room, fueling your sadness into anger at their abandonment. You often used your powers to aid you while you were fighting, but they weren’t much use during everyday life— unless you wanted to fly. Now, however, they were very useful.
Brilliant blasts of golden light shot out from the staff that your hands gripped tightly. While your powers could be used without aid, the staff helped you control them; Ego had made it for you when you’d become old enough to serve as his protector. Although you were disgusted with the weapon’s origins, you couldn’t help but agree that it made your fighting much more effective.
Each of your blasts hit the targets squarely in the middle as you turned deftly to conquer the row. A scowl was prominent on your face as you pictured each of your targets as Peter’s or Mantis’ face. (While you would never really want to hurt them, of course, the sting of their desertion fueled your thoughts.) You were listening to a playlist by the Rage Against the Machine— which you had chosen solely because of the band’s name as it mirrored your feelings. The music that was blasting in your ears was so loud that, if someone had been standing next to you, they could have heard the lyrics as if they were wearing your headphones themselves.
As you moved up and down the line of targets, you were unaware of the audience of three that had entered the room. Groot, Rocket and Adam stopped by the entrance to watch you unleash your fury against whatever enemy you were envisioning. The new leader of the Guardians gestured to you. “There. See? I told you she’s nice.”
Adam hesitated, clearly uncertain. “She looks mad.”
“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.
“Shut up,” Rocket retorted, glaring slightly at the tree who was supposed to be helping his case. “She won’t hurt goldie. You’ve already seen her bad side, haven’t you? This is nuthin’.”
The golden boy had to admit that Rocket was right; he remembered only too well his first encounter with you as you’d jumped in to help your friends fight off his unexpected attack.
--
He’d just defeated the stupid tree-like thing and as it scuttled away like a demented spider, the faint sound of a whistle pierced through the air. An arrow shot out of nowhere, harmlessly bouncing off his skin and only annoying him more than anything else. He looked around sharply, but there didn’t seem to be anyone brave enough to fight him in the vicinity. “Hey! Who threw that?”
He scoffed when there was no answer, stalking towards where he’d last seen his target. But before he could get very far, a force came out of nowhere— this time much stronger than an errant arrow. It knocked him off his feet like a bullet and together they were sent flying through the town, which elicited more cries of fear from the citizens.
He landed harshly against a building that got in the way and debris fell on top of him from the force of the collision. Adam grunted irritably; this was the second time during this fight that his enemy thought that throwing him into a building would be enough to deter his attack— didn’t they ever learn? He stood and shook the dust off his clothes before he strode back out to the street to face this new opponent. Except— it wasn’t the same blue person from before.
The golden boy stared at the other person with disbelief, the only thing that he could come up with was: “you’re a girl!”
She scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Captain Sherlock.” She twirled the staff in her hands expertly between her fingers before she set the butt down on the ground. It glowed softly as it lit up with her power, her face set. “Let’s do this thing.”
Adam had no qualms about fighting a girl, so they charged at each other without hesitation. He thought she’d be as easy to take down as her teammates but when they collided, she merely used her staff as a shield against his attack. They paced across the open space as they exchanged blows, the girl using her staff offensively and defensively interchangeably. As she flipped neatly out of the way of one of his advances, he began to see how evenly matched they were.
“You are stalling,” he realized. “If you just hand over your friend, we would not have to fight.”
The girl paused, flicking some of her hair out of her eyes. “Oh. Well, in that case—”
She charged at him again, her staff catching on his uniform. She followed him into the air and her swift kick to his stomach sent him tumbling away from her. It was then that he realized that she could fly— just like him— and that was what had powered her initial attack. In the time it took for him to recover from the spin, a blast of golden light was sent his way. Because of his more durable skin, though, the light only felt like volts of electricity rather than something that could do actual damage. The most effective part of her power was the blast itself, which he had to fight through to get closer to her.
Now that he knew where her power came from, he made to attack her staff in order to knock it out of her hands. She seemed to sense his plan— Adam figured most people she fought went this route— and she countered this by trying to fly above him to push him towards the ground. He responded by grabbing the staff in her hands directly while she was mid-swing. The girl was tiring slightly, her breath becoming shorter as the fight went on and she was now on the defensive.
She tried to yank her staff loose from his hold but as evenly matched as they were, he was still stronger. The girl then attempted to shake him off by lighting the staff up with her power. If he hadn’t been such a strong opponent, the golden light would have burned through his hands. As it was, the little volts were barely something that he registered. While he could have easily swung the staff to send her flying off the end and into the ground, he held back the true show of his strength as she didn’t seem to be as resilient as the two blue people or the tree.
Instead, he tried once more for the diplomatic route: “you have fought valiantly for your little friend. If you surrender him to me now I will leave your village in peace.”
The girl’s eyes narrowed with fury as she continued to fight to free her weapon. “Go to hell!”
Adam sighed, having partially expected that response. “Very well. Have it your way, then.”
He smoothly jerked the staff from her grasp and carelessly tossed it to send the weapon spiraling towards the ground. He turned back towards the girl to finish her off as he had her teammates, but he paused. She seemed to hang, suspended, in the air as time appeared to freeze around her. Her eyes widened and, for the first time since he’d encountered her, a look of fear appeared on her face.
Then, she dropped like a stone.
They were very high off the ground by this point and the fall would likely kill a normal being. He wasn’t sure if she would survive, so his reflexes kicked in before he could really think about what he was doing.
By now, the shock had worn off and she fell through the air, she reached up to him as he was the only person who could help her. Adam put on a spurt of speed to try and catch her but she was falling faster than he had anticipated. The girl slammed into the ground and lay still just as he landed next to her. He told himself that saving her wasn’t his mission, and her incapacitation only made obtaining his goal easier. His mother’s orders echoed in his mind, so against his instinct he turned away from her in pursuit of the squirrel.
--
You felt a tap on your shoulder, startling you. You whirled around with your staff in a defensive position only to be met with the sight of your teammates. With a sigh, you pulled out one earbud but didn’t pause your music.
“What?” you asked shortly.
“Don’t you take that tone with me, Little Quill. I’m ya superior now,” Rocket replied, unaffected by your attitude. “I wanted you to meet golden boy here.”
You gave Adam a once-over, ignoring how the sight of his. . . attractive features made your stomach curl pleasantly. “Yeah. We’ve met.”
The boy in question shifted uncomfortably, feeling once again ashamed of his previous actions. Before he could say anything, Rocket spoke again, adjusting the straps of his jumpsuit as he did so: “well, I ain’t great with humie ages, but I figured ya’d be about the same. I thought it might boost team morale to see ya two hangin’ out together or whatever humies your age do.”
While your first response was to dismiss the whole endeavor— you didn’t want to get close to someone else just to have them leave you, too— but a small, traitorous part of your mind whispered: he saved your brother. Another part chimed in: he’s not bad to look at.
“Fine,” you grumbled. “He can stay, but he better not get in my way. I’m not stopping my training because of him.”
“That’s the spirit, Little Quill,” your captain said, choosing to not acknowledge your reluctance. “I’ll leave ‘im in your hands. Let’s go, Groot.”
As you shoved the earbud back in your ear, you could faintly hear Adam’s protest: “wait! You’re not leaving me here, are you?”
While Rocket’s reply was drowned out by your music, the boy’s words hit you unexpectedly; it sounded just like your response to Peter’s and Mantis’ disinclination to stay with the Guardians. Some of your anger faded as you glanced at the boy who stood awkwardly in your periphery. Despite all of his strength and power, Adam looked a bit like a lost puppy and his expression made your features soften against your will. Fine. Whatever. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice.
You took out an earbud again. “Well, don’t just stand there. I know you can fight, so let’s see you use those skills.”
At the reminder of your first encounter, he sent you a guilty look. As he stepped up next to you, he said quietly, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. For almost killing you.”
You patted him on the arm companionably. “Hey, no hard feelings. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last, so just add your name to the list.”
All of the Guardians had forgiven him with surprising readiness and it seemed like you were no different— only, you were. His gaze stayed on the spot where your hand had touched him. There was a lingering warmth as if your hand was still there, the sensation sending tingles (not unlike the ones that he felt during your blasts of power) through him.
Taglist:
@repostingmyfavs , @trashpenguin
#adam warlock x reader#adam warlock x y/n#adam warlock#adam warlock fanfiction#adam warlock imagine#gotg v3#guardians of the galaxy#gotg imagine#adam warlock x you#marvel#mcu#mcu x reader#will poulter x reader#will poulter#will poulter imagine#marvel x reader
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𝐀 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲
𝙆𝙞𝙮𝙤𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙞 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙪 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 (𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 1.)
Warnings; reader is a girl, yandere behaviors, misogyny, groping, letters/stalking, Kiyosumi is just an asshole, obsessive thoughts/idealizations, ngl this is a little rushed, bad writing, and me rambling some more :)
If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡
Heyy, this is part two for the Kiyosumi headcanons. I'm still so confused as to why there's a word limit on Tumblr, nor do I know how I'm exceeding it?? Like I swear I've seen other authors go far pass what I'm writing (?). I don't know man... but we live on anyways :/
The second type of reader I can see Kiyosumi with is a spit-fire darling, someone who doesn't take any shit, and will call you out on it. She may or may not have some anger issues, willing to scream in your face if she thinks you've disrespected her (or someone she's close to). I like to think of this darling as an enemies-to-lovers troupe, and this darling is likely a fighter of some sort, bonus points if she practices karate.
Now, Kiyosumi originally hates you, absolutely wanting nothing than to tear you into pieces, pound his fist into your face.
Everything about you pisses him off, down to your stupidly soft hair, your firey eyes, your smooth skin, and god dammit, your muscles look abnormally nice today-
Okay, he may have a thing for you, but what can he say? You're a girl in the martial arts world, something that's not common whatsoever. And you're mildly attractive, just a pretty thing to look at, that's what he thinks anyway.
Kiyosumi will try to degrade you, saying that you're just a trophy wife, some inclusion hire, or some crap, anything to push off his feeling for you. He hates that he finds you attractive, strong, and all the things. He's jealous. He wants to be you, you, you.
Why do you get all the recognition? What does Doppo fawn over you, congratulating you on your success, teaching you new things? Why didn't he get that same treatment? It just isn't fair, he's just as good as you, no, he's better, stronger even.
Kiyosumi is no doubt a misogynist, someone who doesn't respect women on the level he should. He doesn't believe that women should be in the martial arts world, something about how they're far too weak, not capable enough to survive in that type of environment (if you're wondering, I think majority of the fighters have this type of sentiment, some more than others).
So imagine his surprise when he sees you waltzing into the arena/dojo, or whatever fighting environment the two of you are in. At first, he laughs, not beliving his eyes, then he's taken aback, eyes blown wide when you take down your opponet with ease. Now his ears are bright red, completely embarrassed that you clearly surpass him strength-wise.
I'm not too sure if you know this quote, but I first heard of it from this Holocaust survivor named Elie Wiesel, and he stated, "The opposite of love is not hate, but indifference..." I believe that to be immensely true, especially in this situation with a yandere Kiyosumi!
His hatred quickly turns into this selfish want, into a need to prove himself to you and keep you for himself. Though his thoughts were already twisted; how can they not? Especially when all he could think was how much better you'd look with your face crushed in, his hands bloody, and your legs contorted in all which ways (not like that). Nothing better than to see that kind smile wiped from your face, replaced with tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. Yeah... he likes that far better.
But what is he supposed to think when those dark desires become... warped. Now, when he thinks of you, he thinks of how pretty you'd look covered in... him, not blood, but something different. He begins to think you're pretty, not just covered in blood, with teary eyes, but in a sundress with your hair up. Not only that, but he stops cringing whenever you smile, instead, he thinks that the way your eyes crinkle is pleasing to the mind, or how your hair frames your face nicely. Your fighting style isn't stupid anymore. Now it's fuckin' awesome! And how dare those other men even glance at you while you look so badass? Who do they think they are? Do they think they even have a chance with a babe like you? Hell no, that's for him, him, him.
Oh boy, and when you meet Katsumi? Sheesh, that's when things go downhill. Kiyosumi is now paranoid, obsessing over you, you, you. Everything you do is monitored by Kiyosumi, whether you know so or not, wanting to know what you're doing at every waking moment. Kiyosumi has strayed from his original intentions. His feelings for you become warped as he slowly drifts further and further away from reality.
If you really think about it, Kiyosumi is like Katsumi but far grosser. Actually, I take that back. As yanderes, Kiyosumi and Katsumi are on the same level, but Katsumi hides behind this boy-next-door mask, allowing himself to get away with far more. Kiyosumi doesn't have that privilege, so he turns to... unorthodox methods of courting you.
Now you have these creepy ass fotos of you appearing at your work, doorstep, hell, even your purse! They're everywhere, and all you know is that it's from "K...", as your stalker titles it. (Kiyosumi is drunk out of his mind when he sends you these little letters, meaning his penmanship isn't the best... half the time he can't even write his whole name, leading to the K to be pronounced, but the rest of the letters to turn into scribbles lol)
Not only that, but now you feel like you're being watched, like there's a pair of eyes always on you, especially when you're taking a shower... creepy. It's as if there's some kind of shadow always looming over you, causing others to steer clear of you, not wanting to have to do anything with your stalker. It's as if he's right next to you.
And you have a hinting suspicion that it's Katou, seeing as he can't keep a straight face with you, baring his heart on his sleeve. Besides, you can't help but feel unwary whenever he's around.
He stands far too close to you, taking every chance to spare with you, touch you, smell you. Yeah... let's just say you've beaten his ass once or twice. The guy just won't take a hint! Now, it's beginning to piss you off, and you're just about ready to give him a piece of your mind!
Like who does this guy think he is? Touching you as if he has the right? Letting his hands wander down your thighs when you're just supposed to be having a friendly match, does he think you're going to let that slide? Yeah right! His advances just make you punch harder, and him fall deeper.
It's an endless cycle that's coming to a climax rapidly. This onesided romance is just brewing tension between the two of you, one is romantic, and definitely sexual, while the other one is spewing vile hatred.
Kiyosumi doesn't even take a hint when you scream in his face, telling him to fuck off. All he does is adjust his pants and grin, loving how heated you're getting, which just encourages your anger more.
He wants you to keep running your mouth. Yeah, get mad at him, yell at him, tell him how much you hate him. God, it really gets him hard when you talk to him like that, sweets. Don't you know you have quite the mouth? Don't worry, babe, he knows you love 'em, just give it time, time is all he needs.
#baki the grappler#bad writing#lovesick#obsessive love#x reader#yandere male#yandere x reader#yandere x you#katou kiyosumi#yandere kiyosumi katou#kiyosumi katou#kiyosumi katou x reader#baki dou#baki son of ogre#baki hanma#baki headcanons
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Quaritch x Sunshine!reader? Like Quaritch being well.. himself all the time and reader is like trying to tell him ways to be more optimistic and tries cheer him up. Shes not scared of him or upset that he turns down her ideas, shes just super fing persistent and Quaritch ends up falling for her. + maybe when the others find out they are like super surprised and tease them or smthn. Ily! <3
Please read before interacting.
Oooh I love this. Grumpy x sunshine ALWAYS. Also ily too bby! <3 Writing this with Y/N as a recom~
You smiled at the man across the table from you. He leaned in, ears flattening and bared his teeth menacingly. "I do not need any of your silly little tricks to be "happy". I'm just fine the way I am."
You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully, pushing off of the desk as you turned to go. "Fine, Colonel, but you'll see. It helps a lot more than you think it does."
He fought the urge to watch the sway of your hips and tail as you exited the room. Too stressed. Mediation. Yoga?? Ugh. What did that girl know anyway?
~~~
The Colonel had been especially stressed and who wouldn't be? Yanked back from the quiet of death, thrust into a life you all thought you'd left behind. Somehow your group had become solely responsible for resolving this conflict with Jake Sully even though there was a whole force waiting to be used. Perks of being a new and improved soldier, you supposed.
Your hands rolled the pieces of dough before plopping them onto a baking sheet. He might not be interested in soul stuff, but surely I can get to him through his stomach.
Later, you held the container of cookies in one hand and strolled down the hallway, taking a breath before you moved into Quaritch's office. You smoothed the note you'd put on the top and gently set the box down on his desk, centering it nicely.
"Y/N! What are you doing in here?"
You flinched and turned, giving him a bright smile. "Just bringing you some cookies, that okay?"
His lip curled back in a snarl. "Cookies? You've resorted to cookies? I'm not a child."
You took the opportunity to slip out of the room, patting his shoulder gently.
He growled in frustration, stomping over to his desk and throwing himself into his chair. He eyed the box curiously and reached for it to pull a cookie out. He sniffed it, uncertain, before popping it into his mouth. With a groan, he leaned back and closed his eyes, savoring it.
"Shit, these are good."
~~~
You sat on the top of a building, your banshee curled up behind you, bathing in the early light. Your mat underneath you, you stretched, hands reaching out in front. Your banshee chirped a curious sound and your ears swiveled to attention.
The colonel stood awkwardly, rolled mat tucked under his arm, lips pursed tight. Your head tilted as you appraised him. He stood frozen under your scrutiny. You huffed a laugh and beamed at him, sitting back on your heels. "Come sit next to me, Colonel."
He set his mat down at your side, unrolling it underneath your watchful gaze. He crouched down and looked at you then back to the sky ahead. With a deep breath, he turned again to you and asked, "So what's this yoga thing?"
You grinned eagerly, excited he was opening up to the idea. "For me, it's about being more in tune with my body and finding a bit of peace in my day. Some people enjoy it because you can become stronger, have better balance, things like that. I enjoy the spiritual aspect of it."
His nose wrinkled, slightly unsure, but he shrugged and nodded. "Alright.. well.. what do we do?"
You adjusted to a plank position, knowing he would be more familiar with that than any other pose. He moved easily, holding himself up alongside you. You regulated your breathing, in tune with him watching you from the side. He steadied himself, searching for whatever peace you seemed to have. Nothing.
You moved behind him, gently lifting his hips. "Now, I want you to try what's called a downward facing dog."
He grunted in surprise, tail whipping out to snap across your forearms. You jumped back, wide-eyed and he turned to you, wincing and rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry.. but you gotta buy me dinner first if you're going to grab at my hips like that."
You stared at him, processing for a moment before doubling over in laughter. His tail quivered, pleased with the noise coming from you and that he'd caused it. You smiled and gasped, looking past him. He turned and gaped, eyes widening. Polyphemus was high in the sky. Light rose over the trees, the sky a light pink shot through with gold.
He felt your hand rest on his shoulder as you watched the morning light together. His skin buzzed and he looked up at you, noting the way your cheeks rose at the beauty of the sky. Your banshee called out to the others flying nearby, startling you both from the quiet of the moment.
~~~
After a harrowing experience with rooftop yoga, Quaritch's body rebelled against him, legs a bit more jelly than he'd ever admit. That could have had something to do with your soft smile and gentle hands guiding him into the different poses, though..
You stepped through the door, grabbing a respirator and slinging it around his neck, careful of his ears. He stilled, eyes locked on your hands reaching for another. His arm shot out, pushing your hand down before he pulled a respirator from the wall, dropping his mat in the process. Both hands free, he stepped to face you, gently settling it over your head and holding it up to your face.
"Breathe," he whispered.
You coughed lightly, sucking in air. Your eyes were wide over the respirator as he held it to your face, pulling his own to cover his mouth and nose. He drank in deeply, eyes never leaving yours.
He scrutinized you in a new light. Maybe your ideas weren't so silly after all. He flinched when he felt a hand settle on his bicep. You pulled the respirator down, a tentative smile on your face. "Thank you for joining me this morning. I'll meet you for chow in a bit."
He watched you, dumbstruck, taking in your figure as it slipped lithely around a corner. An arm was suddenly thrown over his shoulder and he turned to see Lyle unable to contain his most notable grin. The other man's hand came down and slapped him across the back. "Ooh, sweaty. What were you two up to this morning?"
Quaritch bristled and sensing impending doom, Lyle took off down the hallway, crowing out a laugh. He shook his head and stood quietly, existing in the moment, soaking in the morning.
***
Also having a vision of sunshine Y/N calling him popcorn because of colonel being pronounced 'kernel'.
Taglist:
@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed
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Lore Olmypus Episode 271 Spoilers
We're in the endgame now. I guess.
And I feel absolutely nothing. Any tension that could have hyped me up for this moment was squashed by my frustration with every character's lack of thinking skills.
Why exactly are Hera and Persie passed out on the ground? Kronos didn't even do anything yet, all that happened was that he closed the door after Hera and Persie managed to squeeze through at the last moment.
Speaking of, this episode shows us that Kronos is huddled up in (what is presumably) his cell deep down in Tartarus so how exactly did he control the door?
It will never be not funny to me that Kronos, ancient tyrant and titan of time (*rolls eyes*) sounds like a modern-day incel whenever he talks. And then other times RS remembers she's writing the supposed Big Bad and has him switch to more appropriate language on the fly. The whiplash is unreal.
Persephone: "Kronos is powerful but erratic. This makes his behavior hard to anticipate."
Oh, is that RS's in-universe excuse for Kronos switching motivations every time we see him? First he wants to return to the world of the living, then he wants to take revenge on Hades, then he suddenly wants Persephone but actually he wants Hera. And now he wants... Hera again, I guess. Holy constantly shifting goals, Batman!
Kronos: "I will take pleasure in your gradual and painful destruction!"
also Kronos: *proceeds to sit in his cell and do nothing for the entirety of the episode*
If you want to make Kronos actually menacing instead of just annoying, maybe have him do more than an occasional supervillain-laugh RS.
I will admit, the visual of Hera and Persephone slowly descending into Tartarus and past all these human souls reaching out for them from their cells is cool. It makes the whole situation actually feel tense and scary, knowing there's something terrible waiting for the protags down this endless pit but also knowing that they have no choice but slowly climb towards it.
Or it would be if RS didn't ruin it with Persie doing very obvious cover-ups for story flaws a lot of critics pointed out while she's descending.
Like "Oh, I don't talk or think about how the fuck Apollo managed to channel my powers or where Hades actually is because I'm disassociating from it as a defense mechanism."
Persie that would be way more convincing if you'd done literally anything besides sitting on your ass and whining this season.
This constant narrative that everything is just too much for poor girlboss Persie and that's why she's doing fuck all doesn't really work when all that happened is that people rightfully called Persie out for making a mess while Persie hid away in the Underworld. Rather than work on solutions to the problems she caused or at least try to help with the fall-out.
She hasn't tried to learn more about her powers or about her deal. She didn't try to get in contact with Erebus. She hasn't done anything to try and free Melinoe from Kronos. She didn't help with the preparations for the sleep dive, neither did she even offer to take part in it even though it concerns both her and Hades' kingdom. She refused to participate in the meeting between the gods on what to do about the "plague" but still felt the need to make commentary over the phone. She hasn't come forward about Apollo's numerous crimes to keep him from taking over Olympus, even though she has several powerful deities to back up her claims.
Every time Persie could have chosen to become more than a passive bystander, she had some other character step up and do or say something instead.
Hera: "So are the fertility goddess stories real and you are one?"
Is... is that not common knowledge at this point?
The Fertility Goddess Mystery Box is becoming bloated with how much shit RS keeps putting in.
So apparently whatever Apollo did with the help of Ouranos at the broadcast was only "manufactured" and any greenery he managed to create with Persie has presumably died again by now. Okay. Persie knows this how?
The irony of RS making Hades look exactly like Kronos in the flashback to him and Persie accidentally doing the going giant-thing.
Persephone: "I did make [Apollo] bleed from his eyes and ears though, so that's a win."
Huh?
Persephone: "It's something I can do with my new powers; I was sort of able to rot his physical form from the inside."
Huh?
Persephone: "I think I can do some damage to Kronos that way."
HUH???
Hold on, so does Persie know how her powers work or does she not??? What is it with this cloud somersault in logic???? When the fuck did she figure this out????
Hera: "I'm not really one for combat."
Girl you fought in the fucking Titanomachy, what do you mean???
(The way RS repeatedly portrays women as physically helpless and incapable of defending themselves without outside help, I want to throw up all of my organs)
Alright, as much as I hate everything leading up to it I actually like the conversation between Hera and Kronos. Hera using Kronos' victim complex and egocentrism against him is actually really clever. And I like the small glimpse we get into Kronos' past and how Ouranos' abuse helped shape him into the monster we know today.
Kronos justifying his own cruelty by comparing it to Ouranos' allegedly much more evil deeds while completely missing that his actions have made him no better than Ouranos is neat. That's abusers for you. "I know I hurt you but I could've been worse! Also I had it way worse than you! Pity me!"
I did not expect Hera drawing this paralell between her and Kronos, of being deities who did horrible things for the greater good and ended up despised despite the sacrifices they made, but it's cool.
It's bullshit, but it's bullshit Hera knows Kronos will buy because of just how blind he is to his own faults.
Okay, final thoughts.
Someone else pointed this out, but this is literally just the season 3 finale again.
Kronos takes over a large part of the Underworld and controls the bodies of a bunch of powerful deities, Hades among them.
Persephone has to descend to the Underworld.
Another powerful god tags along with Persie and does 80% of the work to set up Persie's #Girlboss victory.
Not RS building up a different villain all season and then just going "Sike! It's Kronos again!"
At this point, I fully expect Ouranos and Apollo to be defeated off-screen.
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hello! I’m very concerned about this sore shoulder of yours James but here you are:
🧙🏽♂️🪄 this is the sorting hat ask! please share with the class what you think you'd be like if you were at hogwarts! what kind of student and friend are you? would you play quidditch, be in a club? what would your favorite class be? how would you feel about the ghosts? favorite places in the castle? tell us how you'd wear your fucking tie, whatever comes to mind! then pass this along to 3 new students
Tell me all about Hogwarts! Jamie
I've really taken my time answering this one, sorry! had to really think about what I'd have been like if I'd actually been able to experience teenagehood as a guy... 👀
I'd be in Ravenclaw, because I'm curious to a fault, rarely take my nose out of a book, and often would rather be learning something new than hanging out with a group of friends
I'd be shy for the first few months, especially if I were a muggleborn, but would eventually find one person to be my best friend, who I'd stick with through the rest of school -- this person would either be the "cool kid" who is gregarious and brings out a more free and lively version of me, or the "weird kid" who is more reserved, and I can be more sensitive, silly, and open with (probably I'd outgrow the cool kid and find a weird kid best friend in the end, anyway)
I'd be someone people feel comfortable around, and while I'd basically like most people and a lot of students might consider us friends, I'd really care very little about being close with anyone but my one or two my best friends. Still, I'd be helpful, friendly, and supportive when people needed it, but wouldn't open up to any of them in return
I wouldn't give a shit about quidditch until, like, sixth year, when I end up dating a girl in my year who's on the Ravenclaw team, and because she's obsessed with quidditch, I learn everything there is to know about it and suddenly become one of those very obnoxious spectators that bellows insults at the other team/referee all game. One time I get detention for going off at Madam Hooch for a "bad call", and I don't regret it one bit.
I'd try to start a wizarding chess club, but about two meetings in I'd remember that I don't like chess enough for this, get bored and stop attending. But I'd forget to tell the like, three other people who signed up to come, so when my friend comes into the common room and says, "Aren't you supposed to be at chess club?" I'd groan, "Ah, fuck...", sigh, and keep reading my book.
I'd be a prefect, and I'd try to be humble about it, but secretly would feel very smug and have a "well, of course they picked me" attitude about it. Get a little drunk on the power. Annoy a lot of my fellow classmates; some of the Gryffindors fully despise me by the end of 6th year. I'm not chosen for Head Boy and, let's be honest, it's probably because I'm a terrible diplomat and a control freak.
My favorite classes are Astronomy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures (but...not if Hagrid teaches it 😬); school comes easily to me, so I get good marks in pretty much everything but Potions, but it's those three classes I actually pay attention to and passionately learn more about
I don't like to admit it but I kinda think the Bloody Baron is hilarious. Have a very confusing attraction to the The Grey Lady...
My favorite place would be by the lake, especially early in the morning, or at dusk, when there are few people around and I can focus on the sound of the water lapping softly
I'd wear my tie a bit loose, and basically never tighten it fully for anything
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RELATIONSHIPS/LINES
About Scaramouche (@the-6th-harbringer)
"..."
"I still kinda want to push him off into a trench somewhere, but it's fine."
"I hope he's able to recover from what Chero did..."
"..One feels sort of maybe kind of indebted. Because of Mama.."
About Cyrille ( @cyrille-leclair-de-fontaine )
"Far too kind for his own good. But I'm glad he doesn't hate me."
"He's way too fucking nice and compassionate and shit. It's gonna fuck him over one day FOR sure."
"I'm happy that he's nice to Sakura, despite what they've done."
(N/A.)
About Adi ( @adi-cat-anon )
"Helping Chero is going to be a long and annoying task. I just hope they don't give up on him half way, when he proves to become more difficult."
"I'm happy that they've become my family, but do I really deserve it..?"
"They're nice, and they listen to my little rambles, but I feel bad that I dragged them into my line of work unintentionally. And now with Xaviero all around... (sigh). I really want to find a way to make it up.."
"I didn't need to be saved."
About Kabukimono ( @imperator-solitarius )
"He should be careful with his next actions. Some of us are actually dangerous if we take things the wrong way."
"Okay, so now that he's here in my space, I gotta be more wary of him. The second he starts acting up I will not hesitate to attack."
"The hostility Chero and Xaviero have towards him is really unnecessary.. he's just trying to help! People make mistakes, and if he messes up somewhere along the line, then I'll help him before Chero rips him to shreds."
"...Complications."
About Kizashi ( @falcons-florens )
"He isn't supposed to be here, either. But I pity him more than I pity Kabukimono. That says something."
"What? Did you expect me to have some kind of opinion on him? I literally forgot he existed."
"You want to know what word I called him? ..Don't worry about it. Just know I wasn't in a good headspace."
(N/A)
About Sōngshū ( @sciurus-lucens )
"She's really nice and friendly! I appreciate her listening to all my weird war talk, haha.. I hope I haven't dampered her mind with such heavy topics, though."
"She seems nice. Just a kid-looking person being happy and doing whatever. She makes me slightly envious."
BONUS LINES
Sakura - About Rheflora
"My village was the best example of 'rich people are fake' that you could ever think of. We looked like a prime living spot for outsiders- especially refugees from the Timeflower War- but once you got to know us, you'd find out we're just a pile of vipers who dress up as bunnies to please the masses."
Leia - About Rhea
"She never belonged with the Heavens."
Chero - About The Color Green
"My least favorite color now."
"...She was nice to me. Sometimes."
Xaviero - About Rhea
"...There was a time back then when Mama was nice. We one don't know what made her evil so.."
(Last update: 4/8/24)
#will b reblogged everytime it updates (hopefully)!#fours a clover#<- when all the kids are present at once
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#9 please! <3
aahhh! didn't expect any haha. hope this is good. I worked on it since you asked and almost finished it on the bus on my way back home. it's kinda similar to this morning's adopted dark lord au post when i was feeling like shit, but i feel better now, a little less useless haha.
anyway, warning for emotional hurt?
also, I took liberties with the workings of a boggart, and there are spoilers for my fic that's a work in progress(?)
Mc is my Slytherin MC, I used her name
9. MC is about to face a boggart in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Write what happens when their attempt at the banishing spell doesn't work.
What you fear
Ishbel had witnessed a lot in her seventeen years. As such, she knew fear and also survival. She didn’t pretend to be a brave Gryffindor but she didn’t have a particular fear either. Not like Puffskein Dunkein or Mr. Moon who knew what they were afraid of and could easily name it and avoid it.
That was the main reason she was curious about the boggart lesson.
She spent the first half of the class wondering what she was most afraid of.
Spiders? Nah. Death? Not really. Her boyfriends’ lifeless bodies? Hum.
While that could be heartbreaking and traumatic and probably triggering her to wholly turn dark, she didn’t think the boggart would pick that particular image.
And if it did, she wouldn’t be responsible for what she did to the creature.
Professor Hecat made them wait outside the classroom, claiming it to be a difficult lesson already, “there’s no need for an audience while facing your fears”. So, Ishbel, Sebastian, and Ominis rushed to sit on the sofa nearest to the classroom, laughing when Garreth and Leander fought for the couch on the other side.
Of the three of them, Ominis was first, and he came out with a troubled expression. Both his partners let out a sigh of relief when he said:
"I did it."
Sebastian kissed him, ignoring the catcalls from some of their classmates.
"I knew you would."
Ishbel grinned. She wouldn't prod, of course, and she was relieved that whatever Ominis saw he was able to repel.
Next was Sebastian, who also came out looking like he couldn't decide if he should grin at his accomplishment or be grim about whatever he saw.
"Guess neither of us knew what to expect?" Ominis asked.
"Not everyone's fear is as simple as a puffskein," Sebastian agreed. "Good luck, gorgeous."
Ishbel rolled her eyes at her extrovert boyfriend and squeezed the other's hand.
She walked into the classroom with unusual nerves. She felt anxious and couldn't yet imagine what she'd see.
How was she supposed to prepare a hilarious image if she didn't know what was supposed to change?
"Ready?" Professor Hecat asked with an encouraging smile. "No need to worry. I'll be here the whole time in case it goes wrong."
"Did any of the others fail yet?"
"Don't think about the others," Professor Hecat waved her off but also offered a small smile. "Between us, Mr. Hobhouse failed, and Mr. Prewett had to step back for a moment."
Ishbel winced.
"I'm ready," she breathed.
Professor Hecat flicked her wand, opening the wardrobe in the middle of the classroom.
Nothing stepped out.
Professor Hecat frowned, confused, but stayed where she was, out of the boggart's way, near enough to examine and interfere if needed.
"What a disappointment," a voice said from the wardrobe. "Is this what you have become? Is this what that school turned you into? You'd be much better if you'd stay with me."
Ishbel tensed. She knew that voice. She often had dreams- nightmares about the owner of that voice.
"Father," she whispered.
Was he her worst fear? Really?
Well, she could agree with one thing: what a disappointment.
However, out of the wardrobe didn't come her father. The boggart, probably sensing it wasn't having the expected reaction, changed before finally stepping out.
She stepped out.
Or a version of herself, one that wore her father's old colors and a twisted smile instead of her usual teasing smirk.
Ishbel knew, theoretically, that boggarts could read the mind. Kind of. That's how they knew your worst fear. However, she often forgot that boggarts could also plant things in your mind. Sounds. Fake memories.
Especially if the victim was weak, or weakened enough by what they showed at the beginning.
Ishbel, taken back, let herself open to a mental attack.
Her mind was full of images of blood and torture and her ancient magic causing death and destruction. She saw herself standing next to the man that practically kidnapped her and trained her as his weapon. She saw Ominis and Sebastian hating her because she was evil and dark and tainted and she didn't care because all she needed was her father and her father wanted the world and power and she'd give it to him no matter what.
“You disappoint everyone who knows you. What would Professor Fig say? He died knowing you made the wrong decision. He expected better of you. And you let him down. You let everyone down. Including yourself.”
"Ishbel!" Professor Hecat pushed her behind her, and Ishbel blinked, coming out of the trance she was in, still hearing the echo of her own voice.
She noticed her nose was bleeding and the boggart was now a silly puppet with strings in place of arms.
Professor Hecat was watching her carefully.
"That was… unusual," she observed. "Seems like this boggart was holding back with your classmates. Why it acted like that with you, I don't know."
Ishbel knew. Ishbel knew that ever since she took it for herself, creatures, artifacts and even some spells had a weird effect on her. The magic was calling them. Tempting them to bond and take and become one with the energy they were essentially made of.
"Go," Professor Hecat nodded to the door. "I'll find another way to grade you. Or maybe you could try again later? Come see me when you're ready."
Ishbel nodded numbly and walked out of the room.
She ignored her boyfriends' calls, making her way to the Undercroft in silence.
"Ishbel, what-
Ominis interrupted Sebastian with an elbow to the ribs. He approached Ishbel slowly, his wand pulsing slower than usual as if calming her.
"What do you need?" Ominis asked softly.
Sebastian, still rubbing his ribs, stood next to Ominis, waiting for her instructions with an impatient air around him.
Ishbel kept silent, enjoying the sight of her serene boyfriend next to her energetic boyfriend. They were so very different but also so much alike.
And they loved her.
Didn't they?
"Just," she spoke and flinched at hearing how her voice cracked. "Hold me."
Sebastian jumped to action as soon as the words left her mouth. In a blink, she found herself on the sofa she transfigured a year before. Sebastian pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her body, making her practically lay on his chest.
Ominis sighed before following at a slower pace. He sat next to them, taking one of her hands in his and kissing her knuckles and her fingers.
“I don’t know what happened in there,” he said suddenly, voice calm and reassuring. “What you saw. But just know that I am very proud of you.”
Her breath hitched, and Sebastian tightened his hold around her.
“You’re incredible, darling,” Sebastian whispered. “You make us both proud.”
Ishbel let a couple of tears fall, burying her face in Sebastian’s shirt. She tried to tell herself that the boggart lied. That it was simply doing what it did best. That it showed her fear and not reality.
But its voice- her voice was still echoing inside her mind, calling her worthless.
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts legacy oc#ominis gaunt#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc x ominis gaunt#emotional hurt/comfort#sadder than planned#i like torturing the characters#psychological torture?
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Throw back to Halloween when I was giving out candy and this dude came over. I offer him some cause why the fuck not and he says he doesn't like candy while holding a fucking mini milky way chocolate between his teeth. It's silly but I over think a lot so he's on my creep list 😔
it's dark af out, no one's around and I looked like I was alone so gotta take shit with a grain of salt even if I don't want to :( but like it was Halloween my guy so like I'm at this dumb little war with myself like "duh hello Halloween maybe he saw you were alone and just wanted to be a cool dude and interact he just so happened to be a guy, you have anxiety so you get bad vibes all the time" and that then clashes with my crime obsession and i remember certain killers looked friendly and handsome as well so like bitch if you wanna be the next motherfucking documentary in fucking uhhhhh explore with us you do you fucking dipshit
Anyway he recently came along and helped my mum bring up groceries and her red flags are all over and my mum has been through shit so like when she says something's off, it's fucking off so like
Yeah we're not like special but lmao this dude now knows where we live it's stupid cause like logic tells us "oh no, he respected us and helped he's a fucking future murderer" Like bitch we know that don't make sense but then life and guts tell us "bad bad bad vibes big bad wolf, bad person no trust "
Anyway I say all this to say
Imagine Dabi fucking doing that shit like sure Halloween isn't celebrated everywhere but like for funsies
It's Halloween, you're giving out candy, or at least trying to but it isn't a rich neighborhood so all the kids are in other places.
Dabi approaches you, you think he's simply a dedicated fanatic cause like
Why would a fucking criminal be out and about in the open public like that amirite? Especially with cops being more aware and shit, heroes too so like, that'd be fucking stupid.
Your vibes are acting up but like, hello it's Halloween and you're a gal, alone in a parking lot and this is a man approaching you. Sure you can protect yourself but you wouldn't want to go through such an ordeal you know?
You offer him some of your candy and he claims not to want any, which, sure I suppose. More for me when I go home. Trying to lift the awkwardness, you ask him what's up, if he's having a nice night and such and as he goes through the motions you notice he's quite handsome.
Still, Being cautious, you ask who he's dressed up as since he doesn't seem to have any intention of leaving but he hasn't proven any ill intention either. Of course, you already knew who he was dressed up as.
He smiles and you awkwardly look around
"I'm Dabi"
"Well nice details Dabi. Did you make the costume yourself? Doesn't seem store bought and you'd need special dedication for such material"
"nah, a friend made it for me." He puts his hands in his pockets as he kicks around some dirt. Confident in himself as he does a few turns. Finally ending his little...dance or whatever with a grin. A grin that didn't quite sit well at your core.
You sigh, becoming increasingly uncomfortable at all the awkward silence and space between his sentences
"well you certainly play the role of creepy really well let me tell ya" you laugh uncomfortably and he just smiles at you.
As if invited, he proceeds to sit next to you. Uncomfortably close.
You're starting to regret not telling this guy to fuck off at the first alarm in your head.
Dabi seems to notice how your anxiety grows. How you've tucked into yourself, your body facing away from him and your lips hidden. He smiles at your discomfort but stands up and with his hands at his side, he apologizes for overstepping while stepping back and gently bowing his head to you.
It...makes you feel bad. You're just..profiling him right? It's dark, it's late, if he wanted to do something apologizing for making you uncomfortable is the last thing some dumbass would do so you just.. "it's cool just uh....you know. Stranger danger.."
"true true. You have to be careful out there. You don't know who you could meet." He smiles at you and you give a smile back, although, obviously, an uncomfortable one.
"well I'll let ya be, It was nice talking to you..."
But you simply looked at him, not giving him your name, he caught on and simply nodded as he turned. clearly seeing the invitation to your name has been dismissed.
"bye bye"
"bye..."
Well clearly... That was it for that night. So you proceed to go home but mid journey, you decide it'd be a bad idea to just go home without knowing if he's following you. It's dark after all.
So you avoid home on the well lit, quite vivid street. Going to a seven eleven and simply buying a few instant meals. While you're looking through the tag stickers, you notice something at the corner of your eye-Through the convex mirror. You look but don't see anything out of the ordinary. This douche had officially creeped you out and now you're seeing things. You just want to go home now, but you don't want to be alone.. so you call a friend to see if they'll let you stay over to which they comply after hearing your discomfort.
Calling an Uber, you finally breathe a sigh of relief. Finally feeling safe once it arrives. As you sit and make yourself comfortable you spot something from the back seat through the drivers rearview mirror.
A silhouette.
A silhouette that looked horrifyingly familiar.
Starting to freak out, you text your friend, telling them you think you're being followed and not knowing what to do. They ask if you're certain and you tell them yes. They try to calm you down and say not to worry, they'll meet you with their boyfriend outside and go around the block so whoever's following you doesn't know where you're headed.
Anxiety building in your belly you can't wait to just get there and for this day to finally end.
AND THATS IT FOR TODAY FOLKS maybe forever cause I never finish what I start, thank you for your loving attention I'll see you later mwah mwah 💋 😘
I missed you greatly b! If I die from the guy I'm basing this off of just know you and your discord group were awesome friends, hilarious, and to listen to your guts ✌️ honor my documentary or whatever lmao
🐗🐗🐗
I- OMG HELLO FIRST OF ALL I MISSED YOU SM BITCH!!!!! I HOPE UR DOING FINE
SECOND OF ALL, that experience of yours is so fucking creepyyyyy omfg? I mean, I'd like it if it was Dabi for sure but a man irl? Nope nope. Listen to your gut, gut feelings are REAL‼️ you never know the psycho next to you, acting all friendly just to make yall believe he is gold. So please watch outt 🤧
And third of alllll.....
How DARE you get me so hooked with your Halloween story and leave me like this?? That brain of yours is treasure, I love your ideas so much holy shit- now I'm in the mood for a creepy horror stories of Dabi x reader 😩😩😩 him stalking you for sure like a shadow, always behind you~
#B's inbox🦋#🐗🐗🐗 anon#I GOT CHILLS DOWN MY SPINE FROM THISSSSS#dabi x reader#dabi#touya todoroki#mha dabi#dabi x you#dabi x y/n
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Happy wincest wednesday!
How do you think their relationship would have progressed if the events after s2 didn't happen (aka sam not dying and dean not dying)? would they always be as tight of a unit as they were in s2 or would sam eventually seek "independence" like he did when he went with ruby (or was that because of the demon blood)? Also do you think sam would've reacted to dean coming back to life differently (less cool about it) if he weren't using his powers but being "old sam"?
(does that make sense)
hello, hello, anonymous wincest friend! i know you sent this in plenty of time but it has Been A Week and so i'm just getting to it --
-- sidenote i know that wednesday is the day for wincest but i hope everyone feels thrilled to be wincesty on any day that we can manage, yes? yes. okay, so --
This is a really interesting question, friend anon. In a sense this is like -- imagine myself back in 2007 when people were writing early-years wincest, contextless, without the weight of the future and also without the weight of the deepened past that we got over the many years of actual canon information. That's really hard to do, haha! But I'll try, for wincest saturday. Although this is a two-part imagining, so, let's see-- let's take the second part first:
How would Sam have reacted to Dean coming back to life in s4 if he hadn't been using his powers?
Very interesting question. Part of the question inherent in that is: is he still working with Ruby? I think we might have to say no -- her whole job is to corrupt him with hubris, and how would she manage to cling on if she doesn't have the excuse of ""helping him"" by getting him to use his powers? So we'll imagine a world where -- whatever, Sam stabs her with her own knife when she shows up -- and that sobers him up a little from his grief spiral, and of course he's still trying to figure out a way to bring Dean back, and maybe he's still even looking for Lilith, but he hasn't spun off onto that path-of-good-intentions that made so many things go wrong in s4.
So -- Sam's still had a hard goddamn summer, but he's not got that early corruption set in. Maybe still talking to Bobby. And one day he opens up his motel room -- he ordered pizza and he's tired and his leads keep petering out -- and there's Dean, standing there, Bobby over his shoulder, and Sam's luck is never this good so of course it's a shapeshifter or a demon or a -- and of course, it is Dean, and that means -- it means --
I don't know if you'd be able to peel them apart, honestly. Bobby'd start getting uncomfortable. ...My 'stick to canon' heart is elbowing me to remind me of how in s6 when Sam got resouled, Dean was perfectly happy to go off and do a case without him, but I really do think this'd be different. Sam would have been operating on a possibly Mystery Spot-esque emptiness and lack of hope and Dean coming back pours light and color back into his life in a way that the demon blood/Ruby/corruption path he was on just didn't allow. Of course he was happy in canon to have Dean back, but killing Lilith had become the main goal that overshadowed Dean's return bc Ruby needed that to be true, and here it wouldn't be. And that just. Does a lot. If they hadn't already consummated the wincest, strong chance a first time would happen within that first month back.
What if Sam and Dean didn't die and instead just kept 'normally hunting', presumably still after avenging John & Mary by killing Azazel since those are the events of s2?
So this is yet another world. I suppose if Sam doesn't die that means that he's the 'winner' of the Special Kids olympics. Whether he opens the devil's gate or not, the trouble with Sam not dying means that Dean doesn't sell his soul, and if Dean doesn't sell his soul he can't go to hell as the righteous man who will start the apocalypse, which means Lilith doesn't get killed at the right time, which means that they aren't the vessels of angels and none of that terrible shit happens. And so, without all that...
If the apocalypse doesn't happen, and they're just hunting and cleaning up demons and getting on with their lives, I think... they break up. Not necessarily in a super sad way, and not even necessarily angry. But there's no reason for them to stick together, not really. Maybe Sam meets some girl, in some town. Maybe going back to college seems feasible. There'll always be another ghost, another werewolf, and the thing is that now we're past s2 and they know so many other hunters, it doesn't feel like the end of the world if they find a job and pass it on to someone else, you know? Hell, maybe Dean wants to settle down, slow down. He never was as bought in on the hunting as he actually seemed. But -- in the same way that I always hold firm to the opinion that they make themselves into soulmates -- without all the shitty, scary things that happen to them over the middle years -- their soulmate status isn't actually there. They're still tied together by history and love, but it's a thinner weaker connection than it would be in s5, s7, s11. So Sam goes back to law school. Dean opens his own roadhouse. They talk, they maybe even still go on hunts occasionally. They're good brothers. They aren't more.
Healthier, probably. More fun for me? Absolutely not, lol.
#happy wincest wednesday#answers#any au i write is worse than canon#even if the 'worse' means 'healthier happier boys'#they hit their peak in s11 and i won't take arguments#but they have to go through all the bad to *get* to s11#any other life is just... meh chicken stock#when you could have demiglace
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Emotional Parts
Part 1 (You are here)
Part 2
Jason could've ran someone over with how he drove to the Manor. Dick messaged Jason, rather incoherent as Dick seemed to be having trouble involving Damian. Whatever happened must be serious if even Dick is having some issues. Jason opened the doors and a few steps in was soon down on the floor.
"Jason! Richard, Jason is here! Yay!"
...what the fuck..?
"Damian..?"
Damian Wayne, the most annoying stubborn kid ever, was now on top of Jason beaming with excitement. "What... what is going on with you?"
"Dames you gotta get off of him"
Damian bounced right off and smiled "Okie-dokie!" "Dick what the hell is this?!" "It's Damian" "Well yeah no shit, but I mean did he get amnesia or something? He would never do this" Jason looked at Damian, it just struck at how he looked. Damian had yellow colored eyes and a few yellow streaks of hair in the front? "What's up with you?" "Hm? Whatcha mean?" "Dick, explain"
Dick sighed "Magic, split into four parts"
"Four?"
"Yeah. Yellow can you go get the others?" Yellow saluted with a wide grin "Yes sir! I'll be back!"
Jason got up and kept staring where Yellow went upstairs "Oh my god you think you've seen everything" "Just wait until you see the others"
A few moments, Yellow leaped down the stairs skipping past five steps and landing with his arms out. Two other parts of Damian followed, one with blue eyes and blue streaks of hair. Then red eyes and red streaks of hair. "We got Yellow here, he's full of energy. There's Blue who's timid. Red who's all sorts of angry" Blue hid behind Yellow and Red crossed his arms "Tt. Great, you got dead Hood here in this too? Just what everyone needs in life" Jason narrowed his eyes and Dick had to put his hand on Jason's shoulder "Red, that's not how we talk to people"
With a huff, Red looked away with a pout "Yeah yeah. Whatever"
"You said four parts? Where's the other?" Yellow raised his hand "Green is next to you silly!" "Wh- Holy shit!" Jason jumped back, the one called Green was definitely right next to him hanging out in the shadows. "Yeah... Green is... not very talkative" "What's his deal exactly?" "He follows orders" "Oh... I see. Well what did you call me for?" "They're rowdy when together, so I asked you to help us deal with this until we find out a way to bring him back" "Babysitting different versions of Damian, how interesting" "Hah, yep"
.
Jason had spoke with Bruce on the situation before going to find Dick, passing by the living room to see Dami- Blue sitting by the fireplace alone. "Hey there" Blue flinched though he tried to not show it "Jason... hello" "What are you doing here by yourself?" "Red tried to fight me, Pennyworth said I can stay here" Blue shifted slightly away from Jason "Can I sit with you?" "Um... yeah sure" Jason watched the fire as he sat by Blue. This part of Damian... what exactly is he? He's docile, seems more afraid? As if everything is going to attack him.
"Can you... tell me about the others?"
"What do you wanna know?" "Just things you know if you'd like to share" "Well Yellow is basically a child, he's happy and always bouncing around to do something. Red is always looking for a fight whether with words or actions. Green is just quiet"
"And you?"
"I don't know, I'm just a confusing part I suppose"
"...it's okay to be scared"
Blue stared at the flames, eyes becoming wet. "Is it?"
"Yeah. I've been scared before. I know how it feels to be scared and feel like you can't do anything at times. Just hoping that something will save you or imagining a million possibilities in which this would have never happened"
"She had me killed... I'm afraid of going back there. It was scary, but I'm also afraid of myself. Am I... good enough for any of you? Or will I be replaced?"
"No, we wouldn't let that happen. You need to remember that you're a part of this family"
"...you are too"
Jason looked at Blue "Guess I can't really give advice if I'm not gonna do it myself when it applies" Blue looked right back at Jason "If I'm ever tossed aside... could I count on you as well?" "Anytime"
#damian wayne#jason todd#dick grayson#mentioned alfred pennyworth#mentioned bruce wayne#i've always wanted to play around with the concept of damian's emotions being separated and delved into by the family
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Cat: Maybe Kai didn't pass a final eval or whatever...and that's why they asked Bob? You'd probably like Kevari, she's very unique, and quite the character.
Kyleigh: I suspect your lady is going round the bend. She's probably VERY fuckin strong
Cat: Either way, I think if we can survive this mess... I might be finished with Kali. She's done too much. Lied about too much, given my information over to someone I'm not sure who yet... jealous rage she hulk that she is... I can't keep fighting with her. I won't keep fighting with her. As much as I love her, I won't let myself become a victim. Not again.
Kyleigh: I agree with you. Its better to be single than to be in a relationship with the wrong person. In my opinion.
***
Cat: If she could see me right now, sat here with whiskey and a cigarette, she’d be so livid! Probably rant and rave about how she was right that I was smoking, and I was having an affair with Lyra.
Kyleigh: She sounds vile honey, and that’s coming from me… I’ve done plenty of lying myself. It's a slippery slope done a lot of bad shit you need to look after yourself!
Cat: Something keeps telling me that I need to get away from her, so I think this is my moment. Where I tell her I can't do it anymore. She's not going to be happy with me, but I don't care anymore.
***
Cat: I've loved her to the end of the world...and she's still in a jealous rage... I can't change that. I've done nothing to warrant this behavior from her.
Kyleigh: of course not Cat. It's that shit in her blood she's going insane just like the others did
Cat: It seems so, one crisis at a time I suppose. If we survive this. I'll deal with her and get her out of my life.
Kyleigh: amen to that cat. How's the whiskey?
Cat: Damned good right now. Thank you.
Kyleigh: it my good stuff. For emergencies, and with Elita missing I'd say this qualifies.
#ts4#ts4 story#sims 4#sims 4 story#The Tomorrow Men#KSU#collab#sparkiekong#crossover#TAC#kyleigh#cat#tw smoking#tw drinking#tw break up#tw bad language#tw swearing
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Would you like to write more for the Arthur/Tenth Doctor ship? If you have an idea for them in mind, that is. I'm warming up to them, they're really cute and a special ship and the recent BTS photos have gotten me into the mood :D
I'm happy to write more!
I've got a little idea, nothing huge, but still something nice.
And I'm glad you're warming up to them, it really is a nice ship and I just want good things for Arthur (Ten... yeah, sure, once he stops being a little shit).
On with the fic!
--
"Okay, roads, these are perfect to roll about on, much better than grass. Sorry about the parking, I overshot it." The Doctor commented, looking out the TARDIS doors.
"I think overshot was an understatement, we were fifteen point seven miles off." Arthur commented, trying to take a peek outside.
The Doctor made a noise, as if to argue, then just gave up. "Yeah, alright, this is why I should be the one landing, the TARDIS is better at it. For the most part."
The TARDIS, for her part, made a sound that the Doctor knew to be one of protest. "Oi, no need to get snippy at me, young lady! I remember how you parked in 2012!"
She made a humming sound. "Yeah, that's what I thought." The Doctor grinned and ushered Arthur out.
They were on Earth. Well, New Earth. Well, specifically New New York post the events in the gridlock with Martha, with the city looking much, much better. And so very much alive.
Arthur looked around, taking it all in as the strolled down the busy streets, where humans and aliens alike passed them by. Lots of humans and cat-people, the Doctor noted, and quite a few androids and robots, even a few cyborgs. Arthur seemed to appreciate that, not worrying about how he looked with his lower half.
Personally, the Doctor liked his wheels, even if it came from a service cart he reprogrammed, it was better than being stuck on a pole on a track with nowhere to go beyond a set path. Also, Arthur was fast, he could really work those wheels.
"It's rather busy." Arthur noted, and looked around. "And loud."
"Well, that's New New York for you, it's always like that, just like it's original Earth counterpart. Trust me, this has nothing on twenty-first century New York on Earth."
"Would we be able to visit that one day?"
"Ahh... I'd have to find an era of that century in which you could move around without too much trouble. And unwanted attention. It does take quite a while for humans to adapt to androids being citizens." The Doctor frowned, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.
Arthur frowned slightly. "Oh. I suppose that I am not quite human enough for them then, yes?"
"Well, humans are... rude. All the time, I mean, I've got no room to talk, but they really get hot-headed over some stuff that isn't their business. But if I can get you a set of legs that fit your systems, maybe?"
The android looked up at him, blinking twice. "You'd get me legs?"
The Doctor bit his lip, feeling his hearts beat a little faster. "Well, if, uh, if you want them. I mean, I am all for you having the wheels, or whatever it is you want to use to move around. I could even find you a hoverboard! Or just a wheelchair, those are always good!"
Arthur's pupils shifted again, and the Doctor was surprised to see that they really could become hearts, but only for a moment. "Whatever you decide to allow me to see more of time and space is lovely, I don't mind, as long as I can continue to travel with you."
"Oh, uh, I..." The Doctor stuttered, his words lost on his tongue. "Y-yeah, of course! I'm sure I can find you something that'll work just fine! I want to show you so much, Arthur, and you shouldn't be limited."
"Thank you, that's very kind of you, Doctor."
"Heh, you're welcome." The Doctor grinned, and took Arthur's hand. "Come on, there's this amazing museum I think you'll enjoy! You need retro 3-D glasses for it, but your eyes should be able to see through them just fine!"
He was changing the subject, but still. He really did want Arthur to be able to enjoy traveling, he shouldn't be restricted, but... those heart eyes really started having the Doctor thinking.
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Every day I wonder why I can't look like or be those girls that caught your attention when I was still healing from giving birth to your son. Every time I look I'm the mirror I am reminded that you gave your eyes and attention to someone else and to this day, can't seem to understand how or why that would affect me so bad. Not to mention the times I found websites or active notifications in ur email but I was accused of setting u up or making them ? When I was just as much a victim as u claim to be. My gut feeling tells me that u are doing or have done more behind my back than u say u have . And u know I won't leave u so why not just be honest ? Is it bc ur scared of how bad it'll hurt me ? Or the fact it'll take me forever to heal from it and I'll hold it against u a lot ? How is that fair to me ? Why can't u man up, take accountability for ur actions, and deal with the consequences??? If u really loved me, you'd be honest and then give me what I need in order to heal. But instead u lie, play mind games with me, and do more damage than being honest and helping me heal thru it would. I'm finally making progress moving past the whole u asking other literal MODEL girls situation at least in the since that I don't bring it up and blame u constantly but I don't think I'll ever feel good enough for u or feel like I'm beautiful bc u were supposed to be different. And the timing that it all happened just adds sooo much more pain bc I was still healing mentally, physically, and emotionally from birthing a child, YOUR CHILD, and within days you were complimenting other girls, asking them for pics, and beating ur meat to other women on the internet when u know how I felt about that and what my boundaries were. What adds to the hurt is exactly that, the fact u knew how I would feel but did it anyways. I would never do that to u. U say u wanna set me free but leaving me won't do that. The only way u can set me free and give me a chance at being happy is by coming clean about EVERYTHING no matter how big or how small and no matter how bad it'll hurt me, help me work thru the pain and be prepared to deal w whatever consequence that comes w those actions, and stepping up and being man enough to be better for me, your wife who has stood by you since day fucking one and has consistently been ur doormat bc she loves the shit out of you and has hope for some reason that you'll one day become the man she needs and knows u can be.
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part 1 of mafia dad!toji x daughter!reader
".....i'm not sure how we're going to do this. the girl has security on her twenty four-seven."
"i don't give a fuck if some of my men go missing. do you know who the fuck we're talking about here?"
"....yes, sire. i'm sorry."
"say it. i want you to remind me who we're out to find, moron."
"your daughter, sire."
dad!toji is definitely pissed and could never come to terms on where you disappeared to.
where did you run off to? why did you leave behind what was left of your family?
he didn't want you to turn out this way.
he didn't want you to turn out to be just like your daddy.
he didn't want you to turn out like him.
but god fucking damnit, you were just too much of a daddy's girl.
toji would have yelled at megumi for not checking up on you, for neglecting you and making you feel like you were forbidden. tsumiki would still be in the saddened coma he felt his heart shatter by.
this was never supposed to happen. his kids were not supposed to end up this way.
i think toji would definitely go batshit crazy over this. he'd leave behind stepmom on whatever deadbeat activities they had been doing together after leaving behind their own kids and it would definitely piss you off. he had no right to be acting like this, he doesn't deserve to feel guilty. you felt like your dad deserved pain.
the name fushiguro sounded foreign to you at this point. you're a grown woman. you've gone under your own name and you've reclaimed it. you never want your past to come following you back.
so when toji finds out about all of this, with megumi becoming one of the biggest yakuza clan members and you disappearing into the shadows no one dared to look in, his heart had broke.
he'd remember all the memories he would make with you after the adoption.
"daddy, i think you're big like a teddy bear!" at just seven years old.
"daddy, the tooth fairy gave me twenty bucks!" at just nine years old.
"dad, stooooop. this is so embarrassing, i don't need you to walk me to class anymore. i'm gonna get bullied." at just twelve years old.
"dad, not to be like, disgusting.. but i need more pads. can you take me to the store?" at just fourteen years old.
it had been a good whopping nine years since toji had last seen or contacted any of you.
i mean seriously, i get being in the mafia along with being one of the biggest bosses can be a difficult task. but was it that fucking hard to stay in your children's lives?
"megumi." toji would speak into the headset, five of his spies set on top of the building. "you inside?"
"yeah. i'm still on the lookout, i don't see her yet."
"keep track, kid. you better find your fucking sister."
toji would have found your location by doing research on your old documents. you were planning on heading to a gala you and your new boyfriend had been invited to due to his high status of musicians, he was talented and you felt as you were only by his side to compliment him. of course you didn't complain though, the guy was your only family at this point.
"uh, i think i see her. she's with some guy."
"yeah. apparently it's her man. don't give a shit if he's dead or alive, just make sure she gets out of there safely."
"six years later you'd think her taste in men would at least get a little better," megumi would mumble under his breath. toji would have let out a little chuckle.
time was ticking and the place was moving too slow. you would have been in there for almost two hours at this point and toji was getting impatient.
"update, for some reason they're putting on.... masks?"
"masks? what do you mean?"
"like... masquerade masks."
fuck.
this was the perfect time to find you.
"alright, i'm heading in." toji would tell megumi. "describe her whereabouts to me," he spoke into his earpiece, "i knew this was gonna happen. i came prepared."
"try not to make it too obvious, old man. she's still upset at you."
"just shut the fuck up and tell me where your sisters at, kid."
dad would definitely come into the gala single handedly, a mask covering the entirety of his face to where at least the whole of his scar by his lip would be covered. if this had been blown right away, he would've lost all chances to make it up to you by the way you would recognize him so easily.
he couldn't afford to do that.
"megumi." he'd mumble under his breath to indicate that he was inside. "right. she's wearing a silk peach dress, it look's like. mask is white and only covering the eyes. heels are not too high up, hair is down. she's alone so far sitting down, don't know where the boyfriend is."
the information that your brother had given him would've been enough for him to find you in a second. it sucked trying to struggle to hold in his composure once he saw you sitting down. you looked like you hadn't been having fun, as if the guy had just left you there. dad definitely had to do some research on your boy toy alone.
"excuse me, miss." he'd speak to you, the voice sounding so far from what you remembered growing up. "may i have this dance?"
you'd look up at the strangers hand that had seemed to be slightly shaking, causing you to look at him in confusion. "um, who are you?"
"just a guy around here," he'd speak once again while trying his hardest not to break character. "you looked lonely, thought you needed a hand." you would sigh and tell him why the hell not? your boyfriend just left you to rot anyways.
it made his heart hurt to hear you talk down about yourself like that.
clasping ahold of his rugged hands that felt awfully familiar, you followed him to the back of the ball, the center you avoided because you weren't in the mood for attention. you would stare up at the strange guy.
his black tuff of hair would be messy, cascading down his face shape and neck. he did have very nice teeth, but you could only see much of his eyes and mouth while the rest had been covered.
it was an oddly specific mask.
"what brings you here today?" the stranger would ask you to spark up a conversation. you'd shrug, your gaze turning towards where you had last seen your lover. "i came here with my boyfriend who kind of like, dumped me in the middle of this. so at this point i'm here for nothing i guess."
toji would have tried his hardest to not let his anger show, the way his muscles tensed under your saddened state. you were such an amazing girl, who would want to hurt his baby, let alone embarrass her in front of all these people? "i'm sorry about that. he sounds terrible." you would laugh it off, not wanting to give it anymore attention. "how about you? what are you here for?"
he would shrug, coming up with a last minute response. "here to reunite with someone from my past. it's been awhile and i've been meaning to talk to them." he then would let you do a little twirl to the soft beat and would continue to place his hands on your hips after, "it's been way too long."
"hm, well i know i don't know you but..." but you do.
"word of advice, i'd rather talk to them now before it's too late."
he'd look down at you, his stare softening. "yeah? you sound like you've been through this before."
you'd look down at the floor and let out a chuckle. "i wish. it's been so long since i've talked to these people from my past. i feel like it's too late."
his heart would shatter.
please don't let go my girl, daddy's right in front of you again.
"it's never to late to do anything you know you're capable of doing," he'd speak, trying to encourage you. "if you want to talk to these people, then talk to them. whats stopping you?"
you'd twirl again before responding, "i'm stopping myself, i guess?" you'd then place your hands back around his shoulders. "they just hurt me so much. i can't really find myself to forgive them after so long. i miss the memories we all made, but i feel like i could never find it in me to forgive them for what they've done. it's why i've never tried to contact them."
toji had to get out of there. the suffocation in his lungs was hurting him.
don't let go, please i'm begging you.
don't grow too fast, i'm going to miss you.
don't leave me please, i love you.
"i.." he'd start off, his statement starting off rather confused. "i think i should go now, it was amazing being in the presence of someone as incredible as you." toji was quick to tear your small fragile hands away from his shoulders, turning away as he got ready to disappear from the crowd and leave you behind once again. you would smile.
"okay. i wish you the best, dad."
he would stop in the middle of the crowded area, his heart dropping.
you knew.
you knew all along.
and yet you played with it, wanting to see how he'd react.
the tears would fall down your face under your mask as you continued to smile big, him never turning to face you because if he did he was sure he'd break down and cry right in front of these people who weren't supposed to know that he was there.
dad continued on.
"i love you my sweet girl."
so then he'd disappear once again, the closure you both had been needing between each other finally being met with one another. tears had already ruined your makeup, your voice turning into choked out sobs as he left you for the second time in your life.
"thank you for visiting me, daddy."
@mystic-poteto @softyutae @seijurosbear @sleepydang @waka-umm @imuziawi @annathea-annoona @jeankistens-spouse @milf-fucka @sugorokuo @gibberishsma2 @roseycottage @jeobird
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro#fushiguro x reader#fushiguro x you#fushiguro x y/n#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi fushiguro x y/n#megumi#toji#toji x reader#x reader#anime#anime x reader
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Hi! May I request Vesztar with a female drow/dark elf reader? Been playing Baldur's Gate 3 and got me thinking about how a yandere drider would deal with an 'I'm so done with this shit' always tired fighter (the class) lady drow. I imagine she's probably be a renegade from typical dark elf practices. Not good just... tired of natural cause of death by back stabbing that happens a lot in dark elf society?
I'm not sure how your drider became a drider but maybe they knew each other before he got cursed/transformed? Or ran into each other while she was doing whatever renegade dark elves would do? I'd say the most likely alignment fighter!drow would have is true neutral to neutral evil.
Thank you!
It's a lot to take in but it makes sense for a D&D OC. I'll do a concept as it wasn't entirely stated what you wanted. I'll also try to keep it simple.
Yandere! Vesztar with Drow Fighter! Darling
Short Concept
Possible Trigger Warnings: Sadistic behavior, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Slightly possessive behavior, Implied eating people, Spiders.
- You most likely ran into each other, as Vesztar forgot almost everything in his past life after becoming a sadistic drider.
- Drows are seen often in the Underdark so he pays no mind to you at first.
- Some Drows are okay with the backstabbing life of the Underdark, some are not.
- Based on Vesztar's current situation, he can only guess he was of the latter.
- He isn't going to come out and speak to you unless you force yourself into his cave.
- "I had a feeling you'd do such a thing.... Well, I'll try to make this quick."
- Then he takes a moment to notice your attitude.
- You didn't look like you cared about him all that much.
- In fact you looked tired.
- He finds this amusing.
- "Drow life too tough on you, young drow? I suppose I can understand."
- You aren't trying to kill him and he doesn't need to feed right now, perhaps he can toy with you instead.
- "Why'd you come here anyway?"
- Hearing about Drow politics and drama is always hilarious to him.
- So hearing you be so tired of it all is good entertainment for him to listen to.
- Apparently you came here in search of loot.
- Since you made his day, sure, take a couple swords he salvaged.
- Not like the people who owned them need them anymore....
- Even if you did recognize him he wouldn't respond all that much.
- He has no idea what name you keep referring to him as or how involved he was with you.
- "...and this was supposed to be...me? Whatever you say, young drow. I remember nothing."
- He isn't Yandere instantly, he'd have to see you often.
- You either get trapped in his web or happen to visit after he's fed himself often.
- The drider knows better than to be mindlessly aggressive, driders who do tend to not keep themselves very fed.
- Who knows, maybe a young drow fighter like you will warm up this old drider's heart?
- Admittedly he does find your mannerisms and behavior... cute.
- Maybe even cute enough to the point he'll keep you....
- "Don't you think living with me will be better than out there?"
- He has books that travelers tend to have on them when he feeds.
- They're nice to read and may be some decent entertainment for you too.
- His behavior around you can vary from sadistic and teasing to slightly more affectionate.
- Even then it's just to toy with you.
- If you want to leave after managing to seduce him, it won't be easy.
- You managed to get a wild drider to adore you.
- Why would you leave now?
- "Young drow, if you leave now, there will be consequences. Not just by me, but perhaps even by your peers, too~"
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